If you ask a Brit if they are enjoying their meal, they might say:
“Oh it’s lovely!”
Food is “lovely”? Really? Is it wearing a pink bow?
Or they might say it’s “delightful”. Huh. Did the pudding tell a good story?
Or even, “nice”. Did the ribeye pick itself off the plate and open the door for you?
So I put it in quotes because, well, it doesn’t “tower” very high.
First time I saw it I was like, oh, that’s it? There had been such a build up: “Oh, the Tower of London, you gotta go to the Tower of London.” “There are great tours at the Tower of London.” “Anne Boleyn was executed at Tower of London.” “Gotta see the Crown Jewels at the Tower of London.” Yadda yada yada. Tower of London, Tower of London, Tower of London.
1.You not only start queuing for the bus, but you know how to spell it. (queue, not bus, smarty pants.)
2. Even if you have only one square inch of dirt, you want to make a garden.
“There are 32 pods to represent the 32 boroughs of Greater London, up to 25 people to a pod and it takes 30 minutes to make a full rotation. They thought they’d keep it around only a few years but here we are 18 years later, and 10,000 people ride the London Eye every day. Last year, 4 million!” I was atop a double decker tour bus on a gorgeous sunny day, getting ready for the mini chaos that occurs at the Westminster Bridge stop, where lots of customers get on and off.
Down on the pavement, I see people waving. One of my colleagues, a ticket-seller, is with them. It’s a family, it seems. Mom, dad, two children. The mother is wearing a headscarf; it’s an Arab family. We get lots of Arab families on the busses. I look behind me to see who they are waving at — oh! they are waving at me! They are grinning so wide, they are so happy to see me and I have to squint to see their faces and I suddenly recognize the father. Once they see that I know who they are, they all start laughing and the little girl starts jumping up and down. I meet hundreds of people so it’s not easy and also I am very new in this job so it’s all been a bit overwhelming. So my memory of them is not precise but it is a tender one.
I want to tell you about my friend, Hamy.
That’s not her real name. Protect the innocent, all that crap. So Hamy… how do I describe. She KILLS ME. She is amazing and outrageous and nutty in the best possible way.
This is what she did today:
I mean how many people do you know that would sit in a large seagull on a sweltering hot day in London on the South Bank near Tower Bridge? Not many.
I’ve lived in the States, Italy and now the UK. Here are some brilliant-if-I-say-so-myself-I-hope-you-understand-this-is-tongue-in-cheeky observations and comparisons:
UK: Football and beer
US: Football and beer
Italy: Football and mamma
US: Quite the range
UK: That damn weak chin
Italy: The fuckers are all drop- dead gorgeous
For reasons that are not completely clear at the moment, I decided that Bruna performing at Covent Garden was a good idea. If you don’t know who Bruna is, see below:
She’s a character that I’ve performed off and on for many years and figures largely in the one woman show I did at last years’ Brighton Fringe. She not exactly shy, she gets excited by the littlest of things, she’s rather outrageous and I do often speak of her in the third person because when I perform her, she takes over. It’s kinda weird that way.
i’ve always loved books. my folks would find me the next morning with a book on my face. i actually couldn’t put the book down. (i am not-so-silently protesting the over- and incorrect use of the word “literally” although it really would be better in that sentence than “actually”.)
it didn’t even have to be books. just words.back of the milk carton at breakfast, dad’s paper (pops often went elsewhere to read, think it was his excuse to get some alone time) after he was done. watergate and all that. and ads for cars. not a lotta words that but something to keep my brain busy.